


Distraction

by 4PENuts



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 07:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20635217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4PENuts/pseuds/4PENuts
Summary: She is resolved to finish her novel no matter what -- but that boy at the next table is proving to be one hell of a distraction.





	Distraction

_ Okay, let’s do this _. She stops herself from rubbing her palms together to psych herself up (she’s in a coffee shop) and opens the document that’s the bane of her existence for the past few weeks. She is on a tight self-imposed deadline to finish her novel. Agenda is to gain a lot of headway so she can celebrate freely over the holidays.

Hence, no distractions.

Definitely. No distractions.

She did not know at what point it began, this awareness that someone is watching her. She thought that the slight tingling coursing through her arm is the residual effect from writing a dramatic moment that she previously struggled with. But when a movement from the corner of her eye is already too noticeable to ignore, curiosity caused her to shift her head towards its source.

Intense dark eyes lock into hers. _ O...kay, yes, that’s where the tingling is coming from _ . Those slanted dark eyes – dark enough to match the hair falling softly across his forehead and the shirt he is wearing – making her wonder what he is thinking right now. _ And why is he even staring at her that way? And WHY should it even matter? She’s here to write, right? RIGHT? _

She manages to pull her gaze long enough to travel across his face – to his mouth slightly curled in a disapproval, like she did something bad. But did she? _ He _is the one looking at her in the first place! And he’s not backing out of the starefest either!

This is so not good. She wills herself to bring her attention back to the screen and the task ahead of her, but somehow unable to do so. He’s still staring at her that it’s borderline rude but for some reason she doesn't want it to end.

Actually, she _ knows _the reason. She just doesn’t have time for it right now.

To her relief, a waiter materialized at his side and caused the sizzling stare – she is claiming it, it IS sizzling – to break. While she can already take this opportunity to do more important, i.e. her novel, matters, she casts a glance at his order. A big heaping of steaming spaghetti. He inhales the pasta dish as if it’s the only thing that’s good in this world. He slowly licks his lips – oh God, her hands are getting clammy – and lets out a small smirk, as if he knows she’s watching him, before he started eating.

She lets out a steadying breath before getting back to why she’s here in the first place. _No distractions, dammit!_ She types furiously at her keyboard, embarrassment coloring her cheeks from the smirk that he gave. So annoying. He’s the one who’s supposed to be embarrassed to be caught staring, but no. She huffs, resolved to never look toward his direction again. 

She was back at her usual writing cadence soon enough – but not without noting how he ate his spaghetti with gusto. How his mouth curves in appreciation when the meal was cleared for him. How slender his fingers are when he placed earbuds over his ears. How his head bobs slightly, rhythmically to the beat. She wonders what he is listening to.

When she noticed that her “usual” writing cadence has been reduced to one sentence per 10 minutes, she lets out a defeated sigh. How can she concentrate when she’s still restless inside? It’s all his fault. She closes her file and drinks her latte, her eyes lifting from the rim of her mug.

He’s been typing on his phone for the past twenty minutes. Not that she’s counting. His brows were furrowed in concentration, and yet there is a laziness in how his long legs were spread under the table. Not that she’s looking, um, below.

There’s nothing wrong with blatantly staring, she tells herself. He did that to her in the beginning. She just had the bad luck to lull herself in a false sense of security that he wouldn’t notice her (blatant) stare because he was still typing on his phone.

Which is why she visibly jumps when he suddenly slams his phone on his table and narrows his eyes towards her.

_ Oh boy _. Her heart is beating overdrive as he approaches. His every stride with clear purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“What --- what am I doing?” She sputters. “May I ask what YOU are doing?”

“Me?” His voice feigning innocence. “You told me you don’t want any distraction so you can write! Why did you force me to sit at the next table in the first place when you’re still looking at me!”

“Hey, you’re the one who insisted to come here! I was doing fine before you arrived! And look what happened!” She cries out, pointing at her screen helplessly. “I barely finished four freaking paragraphs. And they’re not even that long!” She wails.

The hysteria in her voice snaps him out of his playful tirade. “Fine, fine, it’s my fault.” He pats his hand softly against her head. “It’s my fault for wanting to see my girlfriend even if she’s busy and for lewdly looking at her even if she tells me that she does not want any distraction.”

“I _ knew _ it.” She growls. “You should have waited for me at home. You can do all the lewd things there.”

That got a short laugh out of him. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry. Hey, look!” He shows his phone to placate her, god she’s really annoyed that she was not that productive. “I finished three poems. And they’re all about you!” He crows.

But somehow that causes her to growl deeper. “You asshole. I can barely string a sentence together with you looking at me but you can finish _ THREE _ poems while I’m looking at you?”

_ Gad, I cannot win _. He kisses her lightly. “Fine, next time I get the urge to see you and you’re writing, I’ll sit behind you until you’re finished. You would not even notice.”

_ Like hell I won’t. I’ll notice you no matter what. _She snorts at the image but also got a smile out of her. “I’m done for the day.” She packs up her things. “You’re one hell of a distraction, Goo Junhoe.”

Junhoe hides his smile, happy that he’ll get to distract her more tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this as a gift to my writer-friend since she's a Junhoe stan and I wanted her to hurry up with her novel ^^


End file.
